Gaining rhythm with experience, Blackburn began swinging his hips from side to side fluidly and ramming the prong to them with a minimum of hesitation, until finally he had perfected the switch to such a degree that the delay was little more than the delay of a normal, one-pussy screw. The action became automatic and he was able to switch from track to track like a locomotive, while noticing the subtle differences between the two women's snatches. They were about equally tight muscular action. Susan's pussy clamped up his rod in a series of wringing contractions as the successive rings of internal muscles gripped him, while Marla's cunt seemed to clamp around his whole cock at once and then turn, like a swiveling tube, from side to side.
Blackburn, not sure which cunt he preferred, rather agreed with the girls that it would have been useful and pleasant to have two cocks.
But, having only the one, he was using it as well and as effectively as he could, and he was beginning to get results from both women. Their cunts were gushing with thick cream and their clits were swollen and turbulent. His cock head made a popping sound as it emerged from each slot and a slithering sound as it was fed up the steaming holes. He was grunting and sweating, but his climax was still not immediately impending; he felt he could fuck for hours.
He began giving them two strokes each.
This was even more effective, and both girls began to whimper and pant.
They turned their lust-contorted faces together and kissed lovingly, with much passing of tongue back and forth, while fingering each other's nipples, adding a thrill of inversion to the sequence of cock.
Suddenly Marla's juicy snatch seemed to grab his dick in a vise of heated flesh.
She cried out, a long, wavering sound, and her pussy melted around his spike.
Feeling her come, Blackburn stayed with her, giving her half a dozen lingering strokes and riding her orgasm out to the finish.
Susan, momentarily neglected, thrashed about in dismay, although she realized what was happening and knew the delay was only temporary, and was kind enough to add to Marla's bliss by leaning over and sucking her stiff nipples so that they stood up like wisps of pink merangue.
"Oh, lovely..." Marla sighed. She gave an expert little flip of the pelvis, disgorging Blackburn's cream coated wand. "Do Susan now," she said.
Blackburn dutifully swung across and fed his slippery dork up Susan. Concentrating on the one gash now, he began long stroking her steadily, feeling her combustible cunt surge to incandescence.
Marla sat up, turning, so that she could watch Susan being well fucked. She had one knee raised and her swampy gash was revealed. Susan, in a veritable madness of passion by this time, reached out and stuffed three fingers up Marla's twat. Then she brought her hand back to her face, holding it up like a glistening bacon for a moment, and commenced licking and sucking the sticky mixture of cum and cunt juice from her fingers with obvious relish.
Marla, despite her recent orgasm, was fired anew by this sight. She panted and her eyes rolled. She crawled down the bed and knelt behind Blackburn's humping ass. Her hands cupped his bollocks and, bending close, she began rimming his tight asshole with her hot tongue. He yelped with the startling sensation and gave Susan an extraordinary stroke, his bloated cock almost slamming her womb out of place. Whimpering with desire, Marla tongued his asshole thoroughly, then slipped down and lapped at his balls, finally taking the whole swollen sac into her mouth and sucking on it.
Driven to a frenzy by the taste of ball meat and asshole, she tried to get her head between them so she could add the savoury flavour of cunt to her appetite, but there was no room between their clashing bellies as their hipbones jarred together on each rattling stroke.
Panting, she considered.
Then she smiled.
"Turn around," she urged. "Fuck her from the back, James, so I can get at her cunt, so we can share her beautiful, hot pussy..."
Blackburn envisioned the position immediately. He rolled onto his side and Susan, also seeing the possibilities, moved onto her flank and jammed her ass back against his belly. He thrust his cock up between her thighs from behind. The knob ricocheted from thigh to thigh and then buried in her love-hole. He fed it up to the hilt and held the deep penetration, waiting for Marla to join them.
Marla paused only long enough to enjoy a good look at their coupled crotches, then she leaned closer and began to lick Blackburn's balls. He drew his dick out so only the tip remained encased in Susan's quim, to that Marla could gleefully lick up the length of his cum-soaked shaft. Her tongue glided up, switching from side to side like a labial windshield wiper and, reaching the top, began to spark and flutter over Susan's love bud. Cunt juice flooded out and ran down Blackburn's rod and Marla lapped it up greedily. Then she fitted her parted lips directly against Susan's well stuffed gash and began sucking avidly, so that Blackburn was fucking up into Susan's cunt via Marla's slurping lips; passing through her mouth en route to Susan's hole. His prick emerged from Susan coated with slime and pushed back in coated with saliva.
The dual thrill set his loins alight.
Susan cried, "Me, too!"
Blackburn didn't know what she meant, but Marla did. Marla swiveled around into the sixty nine position, never once removing her busily working mouth from their linked crotches, and Susan began voraciously eating Marla's pussy. Marla was so hot from her cunt and cock sucking endeavours that she immediately jetted a stream of steaming cunt juice into Susan's hungry mouth and Susan responded with an orgasm of her own, the cum oozing out, under pressure, around the fat piston of his cock while Marla tongued and sucked it up.
Blackburn bellowed in the ultimate ecstasy.
His cock roared and he hosed Susan's hole with a great stream of spunk, pouring his sperm onto her internal inferno like foam from a fire extinguisher.
His load was too massive to be contained and it came squirting out of her wide open slot, where it was joyfully gobbled up by Marla.
He shot three separate loads up Susan and then, pulling out, pushed his cock head into Marla's mouth and gave her throat the terminal spurt. She merrily sucked him dry, then clamped her lips to Susan's snatch again and proceeded to suck every last drop of cum and cunt juice out of that gaping, steaming gash, avariciously gulping the thick cream down.
"Ooooh, that was delicious," she purred, giving Susan's quim a few last licks.
Blackburn had collapsed, drained and hollow and helpless and smiling. His eyes closed. He was instantly asleep. And all three of them slept together and Blackburn didn't awaken until late into the morning although he had vague, slumber shrouded memories of being disturbed several times during the night by having the firmness of his organ manually and orally tested as the sex crazed duo ascertained that he was not yet ready for another three way session and had to content themselves, quite happily, with several more bouts of pussy sucking.
CHAPTER TEN
When Blackburn finally awoke, he found the girls fast asleep. They'd had a harder night then he had, if anything, not having wanted to waste the opportunity and not falling asleep until dawn, by which time their loins were absolutely drained and their cunt lips were sore and their tongues were aching. He regarded them with a grin. They'd gone to sleep in a reversed position, cheeks resting on slick thighs, all ready to start the new day with the odd lick when they finally awoke. He found the position interesting and gave his dick a few tentative pulls to see if he was in the mood, physically, to take up where he'd left off the night before. But, although his formidable tool twitched and tried valiantly, albeit sluggishly, to erect, the response was not very powerful and the urge was less than immediate.
Blackburn decided that discretion was the better part of valour and that he had better wait for awhile.
He went to the kitchen, pausing to gather up his hastily discarded clothing from the hallway en route, and dressed while waiting for the coffee water to heat. Then he drank a cup of instant, black, and considered the tasks of the day before him. His late night visit to Bill Gib
bs had proved quite fruitful, since he'd learned who the photographers were, and the value of this information was undoubtedly compounded by the curious coincidence of having met among other things Trevor Smith's wronged wife.
Blackburn sensed that his acquaintanceship with Susan might very nicely enhance his chances of recovering the incriminating photos. He wasn't quite sure how, but he had the feeling Susan would prove helpful. He considered awakening the two women and revealing Susan's husband's implication in whatever foul scheme was afoot. But then he thought better of it, deciding to keep Susan as a last resort and to see if he could settle things on his own, without getting the poor, scrawny, but big pricked husband into any more trouble with his wife than he already had. It would be better to find out just why the pictures had been taken before deciding how to go about their recovery, he figured. It was even possible that the whole thing had been a mistake or even a joke; that Trevor and Big Red had done it as a joke and that Gibbs, not Marla, was the victim. If that were the case, it would definitely be a mistake to let a villain like Big Red find out that Marla was in a position to pay blackmail.
He finished the coffee and looked in the bedroom.
Both girls were still asleep, curled snugly in the arms of Hypnos or was it Morpheus? Or, maybe, Lesbos? No, he thought, surely that must be Sappho? And, well... he saw that they were beginning to stir in their slumber, pink tongues showing between parted lips. He moved quietly down to the front room and found Susan's handbag; emptied the contents on the table and sorted through it. There was the usual accumulation of female junk, a few photos, probably taken by her husband, keys and cosmetics. Then he found her driver's license and, therein, found the girl's address. He wrote it down. He knew the street, a small mews close to The King's Head, within easy walking distance. Confident that the girls would still be there, most likely still in the same position, even, when he returned, Blackburn departed.
It was necessary to pass The King's Head on the way, and he stopped to look in the door.
Big Red was standing at the bar, drinking a pint of bitter. Beside him stood a tall, thin fellow with a ragged and disreputable sports jacket and a rather large lump in the front of his unpressed trousers. This, Blackburn thought, could only be Trevor Smith. Blackburn had seen the man around the pub, although he'd never known his name.
He went in and stood next to them.
"Have a drink?" he asked.
Big Red turned to squint at Blackburn. He was a massive, ungainly fellow, an oblong us muscle with a huge, square head capped by unruly orange hair and underslung by what might have been a beard or might just as well have been a distaste for daily barbering. He had a broken, scarred nose and little red pit eyes. "I'll have a pint," he rasped.
"How about you?" Blackburn asked Trevor.
Trevor looked very sad.
He said: "Might's well. Haven't got any wife, might as well get drunk."
Blackburn ordered three pints.
"Lost your wife, eh?" he asked, carefully, seeing how Big Red's hand surrounded the pint mug. There were scars on the knuckles.
"I'm looking for her now," Trevor said.
"Dirty whore run off on him last night," Big Red explained. "Ain't that just like a woman, though? Never trust a bird, is what I say." He paused to drink, draining half the pint in one massive gulp. "Me own wife run off on me. That was years ago. Fact is, she run off three times. Had no sense, she didn't. Knew full well she was in for a first class hidin', soon's I found her. Run off just the same, dumb, I call that. Last time I caught her, I gave her an almighty wallop with a frying pan. Right on the noggin'. Cured her of running off, that did. But she had to go in the crazy house a few days after. Everyone figured she went crazy 'cause of bein' hit on the noggin' with a frying pan. But she must have been bonkers anyhow, what with runnin' off of me, is the way i see it. Don't you figure that's right?" Big Red squinted challengingly at Blackburn.
"Oh, definitely," said Blackburn.
"This is the first time my wife ran off," Trevor sighed.
"Won't be the last, though," Big Red informed him. "Once they gets the taste for it, that's it. She'll be off like a shot every chance she gets."
"Oh dear."
"Did she run off on her own or with a man?" Blackburn asked, looking innocent and concerned.
"Don't know."
"We'll find her," Big Red consoled him. "What you got to do first is to go home and get a big frying pan."
"Why did she flee the marital bed?"
"Ah, she caught me pokin' the lodger," Trevor sighed.
"Givin' her some head, he was," Big Red clarified.
"But it didn't mean nothing. It was just Janie the lodger, whom everyone pokes..."
"But they don't everyone give her head, though," Big Red interjected.
"But Susan, that's my wife, she didn't understand. It's beyond me how she could be jealous of Janie the lodger. Why, poking Janie ain't no different than having a wank. I mean, it ain't as if there was any romance."
"Have another pint."
"Sure," said Big Red.
The barman wandered over.
"Say, my wife wasn't in here last night, was she?" Trevor asked him.
"She sure was," the barman said. "She was wearing a sort of funny type blouse. Every time she bent over, her tits flopped out. That's why I remember."
"Did she leave alone?"
"Nope." The barman grinned.
"Drinks," Blackburn hurriedly said.
"Who did she leave with?"
"Why this gentleman right here," said the barman, pointing at Blackburn.
"That true?" Big Red asked, breathing heavily through flared nostrils.
"Not a word of it," Blackburn squealed, turning white.
"God's honest truth," said the barman, an evil sort of trouble maker. "This gentleman right here plied her with drink and whipped her off."
"So!" Big Red roared.
"Wait!" Blackburn said, holding an open hand up. "I remember now! A little, innocent girl with reddish hair, that her?"
Trevor nodded, his face furious.
"But I had no idea she was a wife," Blackburn explained. "How was I to know? I'm not to blame. Anyway, it isn't as if I touched her or anything. I just walked down the street with her, is all."
"That the truth?" Big Red said.
"Gospel."
Big Red turned to Trevor.
"Well, I'll give him a dig, you want me to, but I don't reckon it's his fault since he didn't know she was your wife. Can't blame a man for what he don't know. Anyway, he did buy us a couple pints."
"Two more pints, as well," Blackburn hurriedly ordered. The barman, looking disappointed, went off to fill the mugs. Trevor said, "You didn't poke her, huh?"
"Never."
"Well, that's okay, then. But, listen, where did she say she was going?"
Blackburn lighted a cigarette, thinking hard.
He said, "I believe she said she was going around to see a man named Gibbs."
"Ah ha!" Trevor said.
"Ain't that always the way, thought?" Big Red said, sadly. "Do a bit of business with a man and he stabs you in the back every time. Ain't it a crime. Why, the man is entitled to dig right in the boat race, that's for sure."
"He certainly is," Blackburn agreed.
"Soon as we finish these pints, we'll go around his hotel and give him a hidin'."
"But wait. Let me think. Maybe it wasn't your wife that was going to see Gibbs. I was drunk, you see, and can't remember all the details. Could it have been some other woman I met somewhere? I seem to recall the name... errr... Marla. That's right, Marla. Any idea who that might be?"
"Naw, couldn't have been her. She wasn't in this pub. She was the one we did the business on."
"What sore of business was that?" Blackburn asked, casually, merely showing polite interest in these new found friends.
"We had to take some pictures of her being adulterized," Big Red explained. "Leastwise, Trevor did. I'm too dumb to work a cam
era proper."
"Working for her husband?"
"Naw. Some chinless wonder bloke. One of them Guardsman types, you know? Bloke named DeVilliers Kuuns."
"That so? Why would he want pictures of her?"
A Taste Of It Page 10